The Lycan Within

c. one

I stared off into the distance, letting the chatter in the catering hall fade into a dull buzz as I stared out into the forest. Dark, ominous trees stood tall and although anyone else would be intimidated, I found myself drawn to it. I always had been. That's what made me strange to the rest of them. I was the quiet girl, that went about unnoticed staring into the trees that should send humans running with what lurked deep inside them. A ghost moving through hallways, untouched. Almost as if I was feared for my lack of normalcy. I lost myself to my thoughts, and returned to last night. Mother was drunk again, staggering around the living room when I returned. Before I had even taken a step into the house, the bottle was flying through the air. I instinctively ducked and turned. This simple act of self-preservation triggered a rage I should have never seen in the eyes of a mother, but had seen just a few nights prior. Before I could even speak, beg for mercy, her hands were at my throat, and I felt the familiar prick of a needle at my neck and all my limbs went weak, stripping me of my strength. I could barely hold my arms up in defence as I was attacked repeatedly, feeling the liquid burning up my veins and with it my dignity and strength. Every time she beat me, she would without fail give me this injection. She beat me for what seemed like hours and I simply lay there in an unresponsive stupor, although somewhere deep within the recesses of my mind, I heard a soothing voice, telling me everything would be okay. I remember this morning, my brown skin marred with faint black and purple marks, faded cuts and only hints of swelling. I had always healed inexplicably fast. Sometimes I'd even think that anyone else would have died from the intensity of the beatings. I'd waved away these thoughts, as I hid the marks behind thick coats of foundation.

I was snapped back into reality by the wailing siren, telling me it was time to go into my next class, fill myself with knowledge that was of no true value to me. I walked through the corridors, my pathway etched into my memory from years of routine. And that's when everything started falling apart. A girl, probably new, bumped into me. Uncapped water in her hand splashed and as I came to a realization of what was about to happen. It was almost as if time had slowed down, water came flying through the air, my eyes closed instinctively. I felt the water trickle down my face slowly, as if it enjoyed stripping my mask from me. Everyone around me stopped. I didn't blame them really. I must have been such a mystery to them and finally someone had pierced the veil around me. I could even hear a few gasps around me. It is when I saw my mother's eyes burning with rage in my head, remembering the events of last night, my eyes flew open and the panic set in. I began to break out in sweat, looking frantically through the crowd, hearing whispers blurring together and eyes wide, taking in my bare skin, black and purple marks, probably now faint. I felt my heart thumping in my chest and my vision began to swirl, darkness taking over me as it did. I heard footsteps running through the corridors, probably teachers, forcing their way through the crowd probably to find me unconscious on the floor.

When I came around, I was laying in the schools infirmary, white and pastel green adorning the walls and what I recognized to be my mother's voice in the background, I could almost taste the false concern dripping from her voice as she spoke to the principal, filling him with lies. I sat up, the nurse looking up from her paperwork, shooting me a look of sympathy. As her mouth opened, the door opened and m heart skipped a beat at the thought of what awaited me now. I thought back to years ago, back when she'd first began to hit me. She told me, in fact engraved it into my very soul with each stroke of the whip that I must never let anyone see that anything was amiss, if I did, she would kill me herself. I winced at the memory of pain, and feigned a smile at the principal whose eyes held sympathy. It was almost laughable, his sympathy would do nothing for me now. I began to think how the school would mourn the loss of me, how they would celebrate the life of the girl who walked the halls without direction, ignorant of everything around her. There were people who didn't even know my name, it would be so foreign on their tongues.